


Fido’s Origin

by Fido_Barkin



Category: Furry (Fandom)
Genre: A Tale Of Fur And Fangs, Body Modification, Character Introduction, Chloroform, Fido - Freeform, Furry, Genetic Modification, Mad Science, Mad Scientist, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Other, Torture, introduction, saint bernard, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 20:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16939932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fido_Barkin/pseuds/Fido_Barkin
Summary: Hello, everyone! (^o^)/I’ve finally re-written the story that introduces the world that my original characters live in. This tells the story of how one of my main OCs came to be, and sets the stage for all of my non-canon stories that I’ve written in the past. This story is also meant to be an introduction to a canon book that I’m currently writing.I hope you all enjoy this since I can now finally upload all of my past works! (^_^)Word Count: 5,432





	Fido’s Origin

It was a Wednesday. The children were sitting in their class completing their latest assignment when the PA system chimed and a voice came over the speaker asking for one of the students to come to the office. The teacher looked at the student and repeated the message. The student, a boy of merely twelve years old, got up from his desk and headed towards the door. He tried his best to ignore the whispers and muffled laughter of his classmates as he took the hall pass from the teacher. After taking the crudely made paper pass he entered the desolate hallway and shuffled his feet towards the principal's office. 

His heart was pounding; he had never been called to the office before. He wondered if he had done something wrong; he didn't think he had. As he approached the door he took in a deep breath before opening it and walking inside.

The principal was stern-looking with big, dark-framed glasses, and all of the other boys always talked about how mean he was when they did something wrong. The boy looked up and at the older man who was seated at his desk and said that he had been called to come to the office. The principal looked up from some papers that he had been grading, not really lifting his head, but rather looking over the tops of his glasses. 

He told the boy that his father called with instructions for him to go to his work after school rather than taking the bus home. The principal lifted a yellow square of paper from his desk and gave it to the boy. The boy looked at it and saw a series of numbers and dashes. The principal then told him that that was the bus that he needed to board after school let out and added that he would tell the bus driver where to let him off.

The boy nodded and then was dismissed back to his classroom. Once he was settled back in his desk he wondered why his father would want him to go to his work when he had never been taken their before. He tried to push the mystery out of his mind because the teacher had just announced a pop quiz. 

* * *

A week earlier the boy’s father had been in dire straits. He was a scientist. More specifically, he was a geneticist. For the past twelve years he worked for a secret branch of the military where it was his job to design and establish a means for creating super soldiers. In the past few months he had gotten very close to completing a serum, but with each test he performed on the rats in his lab, the drug seemed to overpower their small bodies and the each died from either brain hemorrhages, or heart failure. That being said, his records clearly showed an increase in both strength and ferocity before the rats’ demise. One specimen, however, was able to shatter its plexiglass container before making a mad dash for the door, only to falter within inches of its goal where it keeled over with blood leaking from every orifice in its body. Upon inspection of the rat, not only had it died from heart failure and hemorrhage, but every muscle in its entire body had been shredded from overexertion, and its bones seemed to have been shattered by the tensing of the muscles themselves. 

For the boy’s father this proved to be a remarkable breakthrough, but to the ones who oversaw his work, it was a tremendous setback. It was the thoughts of his superiors that now distressed him so. He had been called into a meeting and told that funding would be getting pulled from his department at the end of the month. They felt his serum was too dangerous to risk the lives of their soldiers and told him that they would be bringing in someone else to head his department after his severance. 

The boy’s father pleaded and begged for one more chance. He had seen the rat himself. He had supervised the injection, knew what caused the overreaction. He alone knew what was needed to make the serum work as it was intended. 

He needed a human trial.

Upon hearing his request his supervisors nearly laughed in his face as they denied it. There were to be no human trials until the serum worked on the rats. That was the protocol, and that was the end of it. 

The boy’s father fumed in his lab, cursing under his breath as he checked the clock on the wall. It was just after 18:00. He stormed off to his desk and picked up his office phone. With it he made an announcement that all of his assistants could take the rest of the day off.

Once he convinced the last of them to leave he locked the doors to his lab and set to work.

If he would not be granted an official human trial then he would just have to have an unofficial one. With that in mind he opened the fridge where the serum was kept cooled until it was ready for use. After taking a vial out he took it over to one of the workbenches and began to make the alterations that he knew were necessary. 

After nearly four hours of careful calculations and the most precise measurements the boy’s father finally completed the revised serum. To the base, he added a mixture of concentrated simian DNA as well as a catalyst that would allow his own cells to absorb the foreign DNA without damaging them. 

He filled a syringe with the viscous fluid and rolled up his sleeve. After tying a rubber tube around his forearm and locating his cephalic vein he pressed the needle against his skin. It was the moment of truth now. His calculations had been spot on. He had made the necessary changes so that the simian DNA would compensate for his increase in strength by making his muscles and bones more resilient. After this he would present himself to his superiors as proof that his serum /did/ work. They would have to let him continue his work after this. They would just have to. 

Taking a deep breath in, the boy’s father jabbed the needle into his arm and pushed down on the plunger with his thumb. 

The reaction was almost instantaneous. He barely had time to set the empty syringe on the table before the serum burned through his veins like fire. He let out a scream of pain as the symptoms of sepsis began to cover his entire body. He was beginning to think that he must have gotten something wrong. 

He jerked himself over to his workbench and began to frantically rifle through the notes that he had taken. While scanning them as fast as he could began to feel the serum creep it’s way up his neck. His fists clenched and his teeth gnashed in agony as his brain was overcome by an inferno of pain. His vision whited out as he felt his consciousness slip away in a desperate attempt to flee the unbearable pain of the poisonous serum. 

* * *

A tone beeped in the distance, as if muffled by a pillow or thick blanket. The prone figure began to stir at the noise. It had been laying on the floor for hours, as still as death. Thick, dark fingers flexed themselves. The muscles beneath the skin seemed to struggle with the effort of the motion. The same tone sounded again, more clearly this time. Now the figure’s back seemed to heave upwards as a long breath was taken in. The breath was ragged and raspy. The tone sounded for a third time, clear as a bell, and the figure finally opened its eyes. These were not the eyes of a man, but rather those of some inhuman beast. 

With great effort this /thing/ managed to get its legs under it and groaned heavily as it assumed a sitting position. It cradled its head in its hands as a throbbing pain continued to pulse inside of its cranium. The tone sounded again, as loud as ever now. This time the figure stood fully erect and on its weakened legs it hobbled over to a desk and pressed a button on the telephone. 

“Khyesss?” The creature’s voice was hoarse and dry. A voice came back from the phone. It was one of the facility technicians. He said that the boy’s mother was trying to reach him to see if he would be coming home this weekend. The creature clutched at the table to steady himself before hitting the button and replying that he would not be. The technician thought that his voice sounded strange, but he had been ordered not to ask the scientists any questions. His jobs was only to relay messages and communications. After hearing the reply he acknowledged it and then left the creature to its solitude. 

In the stillness of the lab the creature let go of the table that he had been clutching and noticed how the stainless steel had crumpled under his grip. It was only then that he noticed the darkness and extended length of his fingers and the long, wispy, copper hair that grew from the back of his hand. As he stared at the fine hairs he remembered what happened. He injected himself with the serum and it seemed to burn the life out of him. The only problem was that he was still alive somehow, and now he was somehow changed. 

The creature rushed to one of the large windows in the lab so that he could get a look at his reflection in the glass. The sight should have sent a shiver down his spine. His entire body was now bulging with excess muscle. His button up shirt and lab coat were ripped at the seams and he saw more of the wispy hair jutting out of the tears, but the most startling change that he could seen was in his face. He still had the same distinctive face that he had always had in life, but now his face was covered in thin hair —He was now realizing that it was actually fur.— and his eyes had completely changed in color and appearance. Where he once had vibrant blue irises and startlingly white sclera his eyes where now a dull gold surrounded by a sickly yellowish color. As he looked into the glass his eyes caught the light just right and for a moment his eyes shone with tapetum lucidum. 

He stepped back from the mirror and calmly walked back to his workbench were his notes were now scattered in an incomprehensive heap. He was surprised at how calm he was. Normally he would be having a complete meltdown when faced with his current form and the state of his notes. As he picked the leafs of paper off of the floor, though, he unconsciously put each one in its proper order with only a faint glance. 

Once he had his notes gathered again the scientist-turned-creature began to  
Look through them more thoroughly to see where his miscalculation was. The serum was only supposed to give him enhanced strength and toughness, yet for some reason he also grew fur and seemed to have a slight boost in his intelligence. He knew the latter to be true because as he read through his notes his mind led him down pathways that he hadn’t seen before. As he read it was clear to him that the serum was only one part of the answer. However, if he wished to truly create a super soldier there was another step that had to be taken. One that he knew his supervisors would never approve, and so he began making preparations. He sent out messages to all of his assistants telling them that they could have the rest of the month off with pay. It didn’t matter, since as things were he was set to be shut down at the end of the month anyway, but he couldn’t let his experiments leak out of his lab. Not now. Not when he had already gone against his supervisors. 

He scribbled a note to his wife telling her that he was on the verge of his biggest breakthrough yet, and he wouldn’t be home until the end of the month. After placing that note in his mailbox he put in a requisition for an animal that he knew would be the perfect shape and size for his advanced procedure. No all that was left was to procure another test subject. Since he couldn’t be sure if the effects would work on just anyone he had to choose someone with a generic makeup similar to his own. That’s when a devilish grin spread across his face. He didn’t need the subject just yet, though. For now he still had to prepare for his most grand experiment yet!

* * *

After class the boy got on the bus that the principal instructed him to, and before long he was sitting between two boys his same age that he had never met before. As young boys do they bombarded him with questions for the entire ride. “Who are you?” “Why are you on our bus?” “Are your parents divorced, too!” “Why don’t you answer us?” The questions continued all the way until the bus pulled up to the outside of a large facility that was surround with a razor-wire-topped fence. The boy got off of the bus and adjusted his backpack which had been jostled by the other kids as he walked down the aisle. 

He walked to what looked like a guard shack and was greeted by a man in a security guard’s uniform. After giving the guard his name and saying that he was there to see his dad the guard stepped into his shack and checked his list. He noticed that the boy was already on the cleared persons list.

The guard then stepped back out of his shack and opened the gate for the boy. Once the gate was open he gave the boy very specific directions about how to get to his father’s lab, but as soon as the boy started walking a bus drove out of the complex and pulled up in front of him. The doors to the bus opened and the driver told him to get in, that his dad had sent him to pick him up so he wouldn’t have to walk. The boy thanked the driver and noticed his hairy hands. He tried to get a look at his face as well, but the driver kept his head turned. 

After sitting down the boy felt the bus pull off. After a few seconds he thought he smelled something funny. He had been on busses that smelled bad before, but this smelled more like when his mom would clean under the cabinets in their kitchen. He felt his head become light and it was getting harder for him to keep his eyes open. He just barely felt the bus stop and said “Mister… I don’t feel so good…” the last thing he remembered was seeing the driver get up from his seat and begin walking towards him with what looked like a gas mask on his face. He would have been scared at that point, but the fumes quickly sent him to a world of sleeplessness. Little did he know, when he woke up, it would not be his normal world, but a waking nightmare that he would never be able to forget as long as he lived. 

* * *

The boy stirred in a fit of wakening. He squinted hard as he tried to fight the pain in his eyes from the bright light that shone down upon him. He had a headache for some reason, and his breathing felt pained and labored. He tried to move his arms so that he could rub his eyes. His muscles contracted, but his hands were stopped short. As he looked to his left and right, through his blurry vision, he noticed that his wrists were bound to a metal table with leather cuffs. He started to pull at his restraints, shaking his arms violently, desperate to slip his bindings, but it was no use. 

 

He looked down at the rest of his body and realized that, save for his briefs, he was completely naked. He squirmed against his bindings, but it wasn't just his arms that were bound. He had been cuffed at the ankles and had straps going across his chest, abdomen, thighs, and shins as well. ‘What's going on!?’ he thought, and as if to reply to his thought a voice rang out from beyond his field of vision.

 

"Calm down, boy."

The voice sounded familiar yet strange. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was his father's! He cried out in panic! "Dad!? Where are you!? Help me! Please! I don't know what's going on! Get me out of here! Please!"

 

"I said calm down!" the voice answered, much more firmly and louder this time. The boy ceased his squirming and listened as his father's voice continued. "I need you to help me with something." the voice said in an even tone. "You are the only one who I can trust with this. You are going to help me with my research in ways that no one else could."

 

The boy didn't understand. He knew that his father worked for the government, but he never knew what he actually did. He thought he just looked at stuff under a microscope or mixed chemicals all day. He had no idea how he could help his dad out, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to know at this rate. His head was still pounding from when he woke up, and he thought he would share that. "My head really hurts."

 

"Of course it does." said the voice, and the boy saw a pair of eyes shine just past the veil of the lights. This thing that claimed to be his father had clearly moved, but for some reason it was purposely staying out of his view. "That's what chloroform does when people wake up from it." He decided that they had talked long enough. He wheeled a cart with many surgical tools over to the side of the table that his son was laying on. Then he stepped into the lights. 

The boy was horrified when he heard the word chloroform, he had seen it, on TV, used to make people go to sleep. So he did that to me? That's not right. He's my father. he thought. He then heard squeaky wheels and the metallic clattering of things bouncing off of a metal tray. He saw the cart as it was parked beside him, but he didn't have time for fear of the instruments to set in because immediately after the cart stopped his father stepped into view. 

 

He still resembled the man that the young boy had grown up with, but now he was covered from head to toe in what looked like fine, copper fur. His eyes had also changed from a clear blue to a dull yellow, and the boy couldn't help but be afraid. The thing he saw standing before him, in his mind at least, could not have been his father.

 

"Now you see what my research does, my son. It changes people; makes them better, stronger. It made me better. It made me smarter. Now I can do what I have to do without worrying about the consequences. And you, my son, will reap the benefits. I am going to make you stronger than most people, and I will give you many other things." he said. Then he walked over to a cage that the boy hadn't seen earlier and lifted the sheet off of it to reveal an adolescent Saint Bernard puppy. "I'm going to combine you with this creature, and after that I’m going to inject you with a serum that will allow you to completely merge with your body parts with no problems at all." he said. Then he rushed back to the table and stuck his face very close to the boy's, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look into his bestial eyes. "You will be my greatest achievement. You. Will. Be. Glorious." His face contorted into a menacing smile and he picked up a scalpel and asked, “Shall we begin?" He then positioned the blade just under his son's diaphragm and made the first of many incisions. 

The pain was intense and on a level that the boy could not describe. His father had not used any anesthesia because he wanted to be sure that all of the reactions to pain and other stimuli were working correctly during the procedure. It wasn't long before the boy passed out from the pain, but each time he did he was brought back to wakefulness to keep witnessing the horrors that his father was committing upon his body. 

 

For two days and nights the the father worked unceasingly, replacing bones, stitching ligaments, transplanting organs, skin, and tissue until at last, at the end of the second day, he announced. "It is finished."

 

* * *

After his father's declaration, the boy felt himself being lifted and placed into a cage. The pain was excruciating. His entire body burned as his nerve endings howled in protest, and the worst part was that he wasn't even able to cry out for help. His body was so exhausted from the mental and physical torture, as well as the changes wrought by the serum, that all he could do was make quiet whimpering sounds. Hours before he had given up all hope of rescue. He was sure that this would be the day that he died.

 

He was just barely able to open one eye as his father started to cover the cage with a white sheet. His father, seeing this, said, "Good! You already have some control over your new muscles. I must say I didn't expect you to be able to do much more than breath for the first twenty-four hours. I would have to say that this was my most successful experiment yet. You did very well, my son. Rest now." With those words he covered the cage, and the boy was no longer able to see anything but steel bars and a white sheet. He was, however, able to hear as his father started to put things away. The clattering of tools didn't affect him at all. He had made his peace with death and waited for it to come for him.

 

The father, after praising his son's speedy recovery, couldn't wait to show him to his supervisors. He just knew that they would be head over heels at seeing what his research could actually do now that he had implemented the two-part procedure. He began putting his tools away and rolling the table to the side. When something he hadn't expected happened. The lock to his lab clicked and the door swung open. The person who stepped through the doorway… was his wife. 

She had been searching for her son since the morning after he hadn't come home from school. She looked in every place that she knew he liked to hide in if he wasn't home. She called his friend's parents to see if he had stayed over at one of their houses that night, but they all said that he hadn't. She even tried calling the lab were her husband worked, but there was no answer. She couldn't have known that he silenced all of the phones so no one could interrupt his work. After exhausting all other options, and looking every place she could think of, she decided to go to her husband's lab and tell him, herself, that she couldn't find their son. When she arrived she had to be escorted by two security guards with automatic rifles to the lab. Once they got to the door, one guard used his master key and opened the door. She stepped inside expecting to see her husband standing there looking at a petri dish through a microscope. However, she had not expected to see all of the blood that was everywhere, and she certainly did not expect to see a man who was covered in fur wearing a lab coat. She screamed at the site of the entire scene. 

 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Upon seeing his wife walk in, one emotion flooded the mind of the boy’s father. He hadn't felt anything while butchering his son earlier, but the sight of his wife standing in the doorway, seeing him as he was, filled him with an unbridled rage. He had told her to never come here! His work was private! How dare she invade his workspace in this way!? He then thought of how she would inform his supervisors of what he had done, and he could not let that happen! It was his greatest achievement and he was going to present it perfectly! He couldn't take the chance of her spoiling his reveal and ruining the greatest moment of his life! He knew that there was only one thing to do. The intrusive bitch had to die!

 

As soon as the mother screamed, the father launched himself at her emitting a guttural, animalistic war cry. His arms were outstretched. He planned to grab her by the throat and break her neck in one swift movement. It would have been simple for him. He still had his muscular body that came with his experiment’s failure. He would snap her neck and then dispose of her in the incinerator, there would be no trace of her after that, and they would never be able to pin anything on him. That was his plan, but as he closed in on her one of the security guards pulled her out of the way, and he and his partner opened fire on the beast that was charging them.

The shots were loud, the boy thought. He had heard his mother's scream, and for a fraction of a millisecond he was hopeful that he would be rescued, but then came his father's roar, and now the gunshots. He saw his father's silhouette as he charged, and when the bullets were fired he saw his father's body stop immediately and start convulsing as the bullets tore their way through him. 

After everything had quieted down he could still hear his mother sobbing. He saw the shadows of the two men walk over to the grey mound that he knew was his father. He heard one of the men say, "What is this thing?" and the other replied, "I don't know, but with the stuff they do around here I bet it was nothing good."

"Where's my son...?" came a hushed but panicked voice.

The two men looked back at the woman now sitting in a fetal position and sobbing into her knees. Their faces went dark as they turned and saw all of the blood on the floor, then the pan of discarded bones and skin, and finally at the table that the boy had been laying on which was laden with surgical instruments. 

"You. Get her out of here. I'll see if I can find anything." one of the guards said to the other. "And call for backup. This is gonna be a real mess to clean up." The other guard nodded and went to help the woman up. He took her out of the room and the guard who stayed behind started searching around. The boy could hear fabric flapping as the white sheets were lifted off of the empty cages around him. Then the figure came to stand in front of the cage he was in. He saw the fingers grab his sheet and then swiftly tear it away.

 

"Whoa!" the guard shouted as he pointed his rifle at the cage's contents. He had to hold himself back from firing a shot at the thing. Remembering that it was in a cage, he lowered his weapon and took a closer look. What he saw looked exactly like an adolescent Saint Bernard dog. It had blood all over it's fur and even the guards untrained eye could see the fresh incisions that covered its' skin. "What did they do to you, boy?" he asked curiously. After seeing that the dog was unable to move by itself he reached inside and retrieved it, wrapping it in the sheet that he had just pulled off of the cage.

The now-dog whimpered slightly at the touch, but was relieved when he saw his father's body laying bloody on the floor. ‘He won't be able to hurt anyone anymore. That's good.’ he thought. He tried to talk. He wanted to let the guard know what had happened, but he could only make sounds, not words. The guard took him out of the lab and carried him down the hallway. He stopped in front of the boy's mother and said, "The only thing I found was this dog. I'm sorry ma'am. I couldn't find your son." The dog tried to move, but he still couldn't control many of his muscles, and the ones he could control caused him immense pain to use. He wanted desperately to call out to his mother. She was right there. He wanted to go home with her and forget that this ever happened. ‘Momma! I'm here! I'm right here! Look at me! Please! I want to go home! Please, Momma!’ He kept screaming in his head, but no sounds came out. He could only look at her with his one unblinking eye.

"Please," she said. "Take that thing away from me." She was still crying, but she had no desire to look at anything that came out of that room. In her mind her son was already dead. She had seen the pan of bones and skin. She knew what that thing that the guards killed was. She had already decided that her husband had called for her son to come to the lab where he killed and butchered him for whatever sick reason. She tried hard not to think about it. She knew a little about how her husband's mind worked, and she knew that he could be clinically cold and cruel.

The guard took the dog away as she requested. It was at that moment something broke inside the dog's mind. After being tortured by his father, and now being thrown away by his mother, he completely gave up on everything. He stopped making all noise, and lay perfectly still in the guard's arms. The guard then stopped and put his hand in front of the dog's nose to make sure it was still breathing. It was. Once he confirmed this, he carried him out to where the buses meet and called someone he knew at an animal rescue center. It was bad enough that two people died because of what went on in that lab. He wasn't about to let anything else die if he could help it. 

He may have just killed something, but he hated taking life. That thing in the lab was actually the first thing he had ever killed. He hated the way it made him feel. He promised himself that, if he could help it, he wouldn't let these people get their hands on this dog. He watched as his friend pulled up to a spot where the fence opened up. Running over quickly he handed the dog to his friend and watched him drive away. 

After the hand off the dog was taken to a shelter where he received medical attention and slowly gained his strength back. The security guard was fired for losing the dog, but he never told the administration where he sent it. He went by the shelter at random times to check up on the dog, and watched as it regained its strength and began walking and eating. It was this kind security guard who gave the dog the name "Fido".

Several weeks after Fido had completely recovered, he climbed the chain link pen that he was kept in and ran away, into the wooded mountains that surrounded the area. The shelter workers never saw him again, but that one security guard never gave up on trying to find him.


End file.
